I asked for it

God is such an asshole. But then again, I asked for it.

This morning I woke up with my period—on cycle day 24, when I usually have 28-32 day cycles. This has caused my Hope Addict to go schizophrenic.

Hope Addict One (or HA1) is jumping up and down gleefully because she’s sure—so very, very sure—it’s implantation spotting. Hope Addict Two (HA2, natch) is gearing up for IVF enthusiasm.

Under the behest of HA2, I called to schedule my cycle day two blood work and ultrasound to begin my IVF cycle. Under the behest of HA1, I called the IVF nurse and asked if I should also get a beta test at the same time.

I’m telling you, it’s not the despair that kills you, it’s the hope.

I am convinced I wished my period here this early because of my frustration with waiting. I am fairly convinced that this is a real period, not some implantation spotting, because my uterus is again proving that nerve endings down there are an evolutionary flaw. So this means that the giant pile of drugs and needles currently sitting on my kitchen counter are about to become part of my life.

When I was a child I had a severe needle phobia. I was asthmatic (way before it was cool and all the kids had it—and before inhalers were invented), and the only way to treat an asthma attack back then was a huge needle in the ass full of epinephrine (I wonder if this contributed to a later love of speed…hmmm).

When I was nineteen, I got a job as a receptionist in a veterinarian’s office. I was really excited about this job, because I’d wanted to be a veterinarian up until I began drinking every day (then it just seemed like so much WORK). Within a week of starting the job, the vet lost his technician, and they asked me if I would consider being trained in the position. I was ecstatic, and worked hard to get over my needle phobia.

Over the next eight years I spent as a vet tech (up until I got fired for various drunken related things), I became an expert animal phlebotomist. My crowning achievement was getting an IV into a two-day-old kitten and saving her life. My needle phobia was far behind me.

Unfortunately, that meant when drugs entered my life, I had no fear of needles. Without too much detail, let me just say that injecting myself isn’t something I’m uncomfortable with. In fact, sicko that I am, I love it.

So starting tomorrow night, I’m going to be faced with the fact that for the first time in eight+ years I have to put a needle into my own skin. I’m a little freaked out about it. I’m expecting to dream about using drugs again (a common thing that happens to those in recovery is having dreams of relapsing), as I did when I first began having to get my blood drawn every couple of days. So I’m a little anxious about this whole thing. Top that with my general IVF fears, and the schizophrenic Hope Addict, and I’m a mess.

But the good news is, I have two important work-related meetings today! Oh joy!

Remind me when I get to heaven to kick God’s ass.

Comments

[Julia]

Well, I'll still cheer for HA1 until she's proven wrong. If so, I hope HA2 gets you through one flawless, ragingly successful IVF. Damn, she's crafty.

[Christine]

My God, I have to respond. A needle in a two day old kitten? Where do you live, because we're hiring.

Just curious: why did you leave the veterinary field? I still love it, although I would love it more if owners weren't involved.

[Debe]

these needles are for good, not evil

Using dreams just make me want to go to more meetings, besides dreams don't come true (I hope not since I once dreamed I barbque'd and ate my favorite cat)